


Simpatico.

by Cupping_Cakes



Category: Vinyl TV Series
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Breathplay, Cheating, Emotional, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Mirror Sex, Mutual Desire, Possessive Behavior, Pure Smut, Rough Sex, SMUTTY SMUT, Sadness, Sexual Content, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Tension, Smut, Smut with some angst, Unhappy marriages, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-25 05:14:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6181684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cupping_Cakes/pseuds/Cupping_Cakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's when she's alone she thinks of him. Not him now, but, who he used to be before. In the beginning. That first night, that first lock of their eyes sharing a stolen glance at one another. Forbidden, <i>Curious</i> sizing each other up while the entire world passed around them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Simpatico.

**Author's Note:**

> A Few Quick Notes:
> 
> I will be updating my other fics. I know I keep saying that, but I will guys. 
> 
> These are characters from the HBO Show Vinyl.
> 
> I will be doing some more fics around this pairing if you guys want to see more. Now be warned these two have a rocky marriage from what I've seen on the show meaning no happiness, but lots of smut, and Dark erotica.
> 
> Simpatico means (of a person) likable and easy to get along with.  
> Having or characterized by sharing attributes or interests; compatible.  
> "A simpatico relationship"
> 
> :)
> 
> Enjoy!

It's when she's alone she thinks of him. Not him now, but, who he used to be before. In the beginning. That first night, that first lock of their eyes sharing a stolen glance at one another. Forbidden, _Curious_ sizing each other up while the entire world passed around them. He was different from the men she'd met before. Men that weren't what she was looking for, concerned more with fancy parties, expensive wines, ballet. Not keeping her warm at night. Touching her like she needed to be touched. Feeling the rough, warm, strength in every caress of the hands running along aching curves. Grasping so hard into her, she felt more fragile than glass beneath their touch. 

She needed that.

Hungered for that.

Needed it more than she could ever express to anyone. She's alone getting up from the table, fingers clutched around the silver sequin clutch held tightly within her hand. Wishing it was another hand, larger than hers, hotter, instead of some fucking designer handbag. Pushing her way through the sea of bodies, and toward the Bathroom. It's silent in here, only the soft bass of the music pouring in from behind the closed door. Vibrating the cherry red painted walls, as red as her nails reflecting in the mirror every time she moves her hand through her purse. Fixing her eyeliner, Mascara, lipstick.

Like she does when she's home alone sitting in front of her vanity. She doesn't know why she's taking so much time. Maybe she's trying to avoid going back to the party, the table, the man with Dark brown eyes, she wishes were looking back at her now. But he won't. He won't come because she's alone, standing in the ladies room doing her fucking Mascara for the third time when she hears it. The soft sound of the door, the thud as it connects back to the frame, and those Dark eyes are staring back at her in the mirror. Lost within the click of the lock behind him.

Watching her. She can't control herself. Part of her is filled with the girlish excitement she'd felt the night her crush had asked her to the prom. Not because of that, not because she knew she'd seen the same thought behind his eyes. No, its the simple fact that he followed, that he needed her just as badly as she needed him. Her cheeks are burning, the teal lace between her legs soaked. She's a mess, a cheater, a fucking backstabber for wanting her best friend's boyfriend to touch her. But in here, in this room, there's none of that. Just him, and her.

She can see him watching her, brown eyes flickering over her. Melting her from the inside out, before he's moving, and she's all but forgotten any sense of logic within her head. Turning to face him, eyes staring up at him, from beneath dark lashes. He doesn't speak, neither of them does. That's when she feels it, the tight, controlling grasp of fingers gripping into her neck. He's not hurting her, just grasping her, lifting her onto the balls of her feet. The sound of her hand connecting with his face, is the only sound both of them can hear. Loud, raw, savage, and now he's smiling. Staring back at her as if he's reading the very thought behind the wide, desperate eyes staring up at him. _Make me yours._

She feels herself being pushed back, forced tight against the sink before his lips are searching hers. Tongue dipping into her mouth, filling her every sense with nothing but him. Before his kiss becomes rougher, harder, more alluring than anything she's ever experienced before now. She's drowning in him, begging him, as she feels herself turned around. Eyes seeing the sight unfolding before her. Soft black chiffon being torn upwards over sun kissed hips and teal lace being torn and tossed aside. His hand is on her throat again, touching, primal, possessive that from this moment on she is his as he slides into her. 

Hot, Hard, and giving her everything she'd wanted since Ingrid had introduced them to each other. He's everything she's looked for in someone, rough, forceful, using her the way she'd always wanted in her fantasies. She can't look away. Wouldn't even if she had to, because she wants to see. Wants to see his hips slapping against her ass, the jiggle of soft breasts dangerously close to falling out of the top of her dress. Hand grasped around her throat, as their sounds of pleasure mingle becoming one.

That was the first time. The time she remembered of them the most when she was alone. Fingers grasped into the fabric of her sundress, watching the gleam of sunlight against her wedding ring wishing he'd come home. Wishing they were like that just once more.

**Author's Note:**

> Review and Comment guys.


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